


I'm Just Tryna Shed a Little Light

by 0_SoftDawg_0



Series: Softie's Rare Pairs [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, It's Laf!, M/M, Mention of Death, My First Fanfic, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Panic Attacks, Thomas has anxiety, Trans Male Character, Trans Thomas Jefferson, if you squint tho, petnames, soft bois, theater production
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0_SoftDawg_0/pseuds/0_SoftDawg_0
Summary: The entire production of the show has been going very smoothly. That is until Thomas has a panic attack during the measuring process. Who better to help him through it than the costume designer (slash crush *wink* *wink*) HERCULES MULLIGAN.Or:I'm horrible at summaries and this is my first fanfic where a Trans!Thomas has a panic attack and Herc helps him through it like the soft boi he is.
Relationships: Thomas Jefferson/Hercules Mulligan
Series: Softie's Rare Pairs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064981
Kudos: 12





	I'm Just Tryna Shed a Little Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Omg this is my very first fic on this platform, and I'm so excited to share it! This is going to be my first installment of my rare pair fics. I've been obesessed with these as of late, so I decided to write them. I'm taking requests for prompts and rare pair ships so ask away! I'll also take other ships as well, but I'm going to put them in a separate series. Anywho... Enjoy and comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Hamilton. I only thought of the plot. I repeat, THIS CHARACTERS OR HAMILTON DO NOT BELONG TO ME!

“Okay! So I guess you can all just line up across the room so Herc can get all of his measurements done.” Laf directed the room full of actors.

All of the men murmured their understanding and began to form a single file line for their costume designer to finish his task as quickly as possible. Hercules Mulligan walked into the room and started to unpack his measuring tape and notebook. Thomas tried to look anywhere else in the room, but the way the tailor’s eyes reflected off of the light in the room was too captivating. He could get lost in those eyes forever…

_ Woahhh. Okay there buddy. He doesn’t like you and you just met, remember? You’ve only spoken to him once. There’s no possible way someone like Hercules Mulligan could like someone like you. Heck, you don’t even like yourself, how're you gonna expect someone else to like you? _

Thomas sighed. Sometimes his mind was a work of genius. He could play any song on the violin perfectly if you requested. His hand would move across the strings like a knife going through butter. He could think of any counter-argument in debate class that even rivals Hamilton. On the stage… He was a theatrical Michelangelo when it came to performance arts. If it’s a play. He’s going to be in it, and excel at it. All in all, his mind was pretty great. 

Except for the fact that his mind could be very cruel. Thomas has always struggled with anxiety and it’s been a real challenge at some points. Especially since he came out to his parents. That day had been a disaster and he still had nightmares about the glass bottles and curses that were flown his way. It also didn’t help that his only support system, his sister Mary, passed away a couple of months prior in a car crash. That series of events broke him, and he wasn’t the same loud, confident, boisterous man he once was. 

Yes, he was proud of who he was, but on the other hand, it’s hard to be who you are when there are people who want you to suffer for being you. People who will never accept Thomas for who he is. Those thoughts hurt, and those were the thoughts that kept him up at night. The same thoughts that earned him four horizontal scars on both of his wrists.

This is why the play has been so good for him. It’s his first production since being accepted into NYU and he's been feeling pretty great about it. There’s so much diversity in the cast and everyone seems great to hang around. He even went so far as to make some friends while he was at it. There’s James Madison, the stage manager, who bonded with Thomas over their mutual love for Virginia. The two now hang out every week at the library or one of their dorms. 

Lafayette was just a ball of energy and so sweet. They oozed confidence and didn’t care what anyone thought of them. That was something Thomas has been trying to pick up on. 

Lastly, there was Hercules Mulligan. He was the costume designer for the play and even with his big, macho look on the outside, he was a total teddy bear on the inside. The first day he met Hercules, Thomas was either going to have a panic attack; because he thought he was going to get rushed by the large man. Or, a heart attack; because- Wow...

_ Now I know what that one movie meant about “Honey you mean HUNKules.” _

His voice was unlike anything he's ever heard and he could listen to him talk for a lifetime. Thomas tried to make it through their introductions, but it was hard when you could see how his muscled build stretched out his simple cotton T-shirt. He hid his short, tight curls with a grey beanie and he could write a thousand essays just about the look of those soft, inviting lips. His large, calloused hands were soft, and gentle when they shook Thomas’s. The Irishman’s overall demeanor gave Thomas a sense of calm. All of this information Thomas got after having a single conversation with the man. Even so, Thomas would be lying if he said he wasn’t falling for him.

_ Which leads us to our little problem Tommy-Boy~~ _

  
  


“Okay everyone, listen up!” The tailor shouted. Thomas tore himself from his thoughts to pay attention to the Irishman. “This shouldn’t be too hard if you all just stand still and let me do my job.” He gestured for Alex to step up and began to demonstrate. “So I’m going to measure right under the arms,” he explained as he wrapped the tape around Alex’s chest under his arms. 

_ Wait, that’s too close. You’re not supposed to let anyone be that close. _

“..and then I’m going to get an accurate measurement there, along with your heights and widths.” He nodded for Alex to return to his spot.

_ He’s doing this for everyone? No, no he can't. If he feels that binder, you’re done. _

As Hercules finished Aaron Burr at the front of the line, the curly haired boy's breath began to quicken. The tailor was getting the information he needed at lightning speed and it wouldn’t be long until he reached Thomas.

_ No, no, slow down. I need to think. Just think. Come on brain, think of something. _

His binder began to feel constricting as he tried to gasp for air. Thankfully, the chatter of the other men in line seemed to take the attention off of him. His talkative castmates seemed to drown out his impending panic attack. Alex and John had started a very heated conversation about why Seabury shouldn’t have been given a part in the production at all. “You know I can hear you two right?!?!” Said guy in question screeched.

“Oh, I’m VERY aware, Seabury.” Alex barked back. This caused the entire room to erupt in howling laughter. 

The cheerful, boisterous atmosphere seemed to lift everyone’s spirits except for Thomas, who was in the middle of a crisis. All he had to do was breathe. It wasn’t so hard to do. Breathe… Just breathe Thomas. So what you’re getting measured? So what if Herc might get too close and suspect something and yell and-

  
  


Thomas’s world around him began to fade until he could only hear the ringing in his ears. He was barreling towards a breakdown and there was nothing he could do about it. Jefferson tried to think rationally, but all of the positive thoughts and ideas were replaced with thoughts of pure dread.

_ They’re all gonna find out. They’ll think you’re gross. They’ll hate you and they’ll never talk to you and you’ll get exiled and you're gonna lose all your friends and _

_ Ohgodicantbreatheicantbreathehelppleaseicant- _

_ *~* _

Hercules was getting through the measurements pretty quickly and was very thankful for the cooperation from the actors. He even began to make small talk with whomever he was recording. It wasn’t often when he started a conversation with the cast members, but when he did, it was usually with his roommates Alex and John. It’s not that they weren’t nice people. They seemed fine, but Herc has always been one to listen and observe instead of engaging. 

_ Although, his observations veered from the fashion choices of the other cast members to a certain curly-haired Virginian.  _

When Laf had approached him and asked if he could do the costume design for their production, Herc couldn’t say no. He loved fashion and tailoring, and it would give him some extra credits for his classes. Mulligan was expecting to spend his free time for the next couple of months in an auditorium, sewing and putting together outfits. He expected to be bored out of his mind while he watched his best friend help direct an entire play. What he didn’t expect was to be enthralled by a certain cast member by the name of Thomas Jefferson.

*~*~*

The first day he came into rehearsal, the entire cast had already started practicing and they were going over lines. He sat next to Laf in one of the first rows and watched as James Madison straightened something out on the stage. One of the first things he noticed about Laf was that they had their hair down. Laf always had their hair up in their signature bun. The second abnormality he noticed was that Laf was wearing glasses. Laf never wore glasses. 

“Laf” raised their head and cocked a confused eyebrow. It was that Herc realized that he hadn’t been sitting next to the Frenchman. 

“Umm- hi?” How eloquent of you, Herc. 

One of the first things he noticed about the mystery man was that he was gorgeous. He had chocolate brown eyes and if you squinted, you could see specks of gold sprinkled in the irises. He seemed around an inch taller than him, but Herc made up for it by being bulkier and more muscled. Additionally, his afro of tight curls framed his face like a halo. Being the tailor that he was, Herc was also drawn to his outfit. He was wearing light cuffed jeans black high-top Vans. His Magenta hoodie seemed to swallow his thin frame whole and he topped it off with black-framed glasses. And if that wasn’t the most adorable thing the Irishman has ever seen, then he didn’t know what was.

“I’m Hercules. Hercules Mulligan. I’m the costume designer.” The man stuck out his hand as a greeting. The curly-haired man shook Herc’s hand and responded with, “Thomas Jefferson.” The Virginian ducked his head a bit and smiled shyly, trying to hide the crimson blush running up his cheeks. It was then that Hercules decided that he wanted to see that smile every day. Herc also couldn’t help but notice the way Thomas’s hand felt on his own. The Virginian’s hand was soft and a bit smaller compared to the Irishman’s larger hands.

_ It feels like his hand was made for mine. It feels like he was made for me, and I was made for him. _

From that short conversation, Hercules noticed that Thomas’s reserved, quiet attitude only added to the endearment. The tailor never believed in love at first sight, but now, his ideologies have changed.

*~*~*

The Irishman has been thinking of the taller man for a while after that encounter, and he figured that it was time they spoke again. With the production taking up most of Thomas’ time Herc hasn’t been able to find the right time. 

Speaking of cute Virginians… towards the end of the line, he saw that Thomas’s breathing seemed a bit on the irregular side. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw that he looked panicked. At first, Herc waved it off as dehydration since it was really hot in the room, and they haven’t had a chance to take a break. His first idea was proven wrong when he noticed that he was the only one that hasn’t spoken or moved since the tailor brought out the measuring tape.

_ “He looks scared?”  _ Hercules’s mind supplied. And he did… His breaths were coming out quick and erratic. He was also visibly paler and looked as if he’d pass out any second. 

_ Go on… help him. Be his tailor in shining armor. (Sorry but I had to) _

“Um hey, everyone I’ve got all the measurements I need for now. Don’t worry if I haven’t gotten to you yet,” he said gesturing towards the end of the line. ”I can get those a little later. Thanks, everyone.” 

“Remember. Rehearsal is this Sunday after the ladies come in for their measurements” Laf shouted before picking up their bag and heading towards the door.

“Thanks again mon ami, you’re a lifesaver!” Laf addressed Herc one more time before exiting.

“Oh yeah no problem”, he answered distractedly, still glancing at Thomas, who still hasn’t moved from his spot in the back of the room. Everyone started to file out of the small space while talking about their plans for the weekend. As the stragglers gathered their stuff and prepared to leave, Herc made his way over to Thomas, who didn’t seem to register anything going around him. He scanned the room and called out a quick goodbye to John Laurens, who didn’t seem to notice the two men standing in the back of the room. As John made his exit, the tailor studied Thomas’s face and body language for any clear clues for what could’ve happened.

The second the door slammed shut, the man in question collapsed onto the floor into a fit of sobs. Before Herc could think, he was already kneeling on the ground trying to figure out what put the boy in such a state. Thomas seemed to be curled up in a protective ball, with his knees in a vice-like grip. He then realized that he was having a panic attack. 

Hercules scooted closer, careful not to startle the panicked man, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. At first, Thomas flinched at the contact but then leaned into his hand. 

_ Ok so at least I can touch him so this shouldn’t be too hard.  _

His hand traveled to his back as he began to rub it in soothing circles. When his breathing seemed to stay at the same erratic pace, the tailor began to take exaggerated breaths that the Virginian could follow. He watched with slight satisfaction as the taller man's sobs ceased to sniffles and small hiccups. 

“Hey, Tommy… can you hear me?” With that, he got a small nod of the head. 

“Can you look at me?” He asked the Virginian with his head buried in his arms. 

Thomas slowly lifted his head at the request and he was greeted with the same beautiful eyes he adored staring into; except these were red and puffy from the tears. He hesitated for a moment before lifting his hand to ask for silent permission to touch Jefferson’s face. His unasked question was answered with a slight nod of the head. 

Herc rested a hand on Thomas’s cheek and wiped away the tears with his thumb. As Thomas seemed to calm down, the Irishman decided to wrap his arms around the smaller male.

“Is this okay, Thomas?”

Herc got a nod and the panicked man melted into the gesture. Hercules used the moment to pull him into his lap, and when Thomas snuggled into the larger man’s chest, he deemed this a good enough position to stay in. They sat in relative silence with Thomas’s face burrowed in Hercules’s shoulder. After a little while, Herc decided to break the silence.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He asked while running his hands through the corkscrew curls of the man in his lap. 

“You- wouldn’t get it.” The answer was muffled by H’s shoulder, but he could make it out just fine in the quiet room. He seemed a little crestfallen at the answer but figured that considering his state, it’s best not to force Thomas into anything.

_ You’ve gotta be patient. You don’t want to trigger him again.  _

Because there’s no telling how that would go.

“Ok sweetheart- man, that’s fine. We can just sit here for a little bit.” Herc internally winced at the pet name but figured the save was good enough for now

The tailor sat with Thomas in silence while resisting the urge to place a soft kiss on his forehead. 

*~*

Thomas had been sitting on Herc’s lap when the internal debate started.

_ Don’t tell him. You’ve worked too hard to get where you are. He could be just like your parents. _

_ Or maybe he might like you, y’know… _

_ Nope! That’s a lie and you know it. As if anyone’s going to like someone like- _

_ Wait, did he just call you “sweetheart?’ _

Tomas quickly shook off the fumble. He didn’t have time for another crisis.

_ See! He cares! Tell him! _

_ Don’t do it, you've been hiding it so well. Say nothing! _

On one hand, telling Herc could be a disaster. He might drop him off his lap like he were hot coals and call him horrible names. He’s only known the tailor for a short time and has spoken to him only once. He could be a horrible person deep down for all Thomas Knows.

On the other hand, Hercules came off as someone Thomas could truly trust. The same trust that he hasn’t felt towards someone since his sister died. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt as if he could tell the Irishman anything.

_ This isn’t just anything! _

Thomas started to whimper in distress at the silent argument still going strong in his head. Hercules caught onto his panic and soothed him with rubs on the back. If this was a different scenario, Thomas would be purring.

_ Doitdoitdoityoullbefineitllbebetterifyoutellhim- _

_ Nononothisisabadideadontpleasedonttellhim- _

“I’m transgender...”

The words came out strangled and broken. The statement wouldn’t have been heard at all if the room wasn’t already deathly silent. Thomas waited for what seemed like an entire lifetime for Herc’s negative response, but it never came...

To his surprise, Hercules just tightened his hold on the taller boy. 

“You know… I’m really glad you trusted me enough to tell me.” The larger man explained. “And I think that you’re really brave for telling anyone in the first place.”

Thomas let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He’s never felt so relieved in his life. He removed his head from the larger man’s shoulder and looked at him with wide eyes.

“So you’re not mad”

Hercules chuckled at Thomas’s puppy-like expression. 

“‘Course I’m not mad.” He assured. “I would like to know what caused your attack, though. Just so I don't do anything to panic you.”

Thomas sighed and looked back up at Hercules. “When you were demonstrating on Hamilton, I saw how close you were getting his chest and panicked, I guess.” The tailor looked down at him with an understanding expression. 

“I thought that you’d feel my binder and that scared the crap out of me. I didn’t know how you’d react, so I thought the worst.” Thomas explained. “I’ve come out to three people before you, and the only one who has been accepting died.” He recalled, tearing up at the thought of his sister.

Hercules looked at Thomas with a soft look on his face. ”I’m so sorry T,” He said while rubbing his back again. “I can’t imagine how scary that could’ve been for you.” He ran his hands through the man’s curls for a minute before thinking of a way to solve their impending problem.

“How about I measure you now.” He suggested. “Just you and me, right here.”

Thomas looked up at him before pondering Hercules’s idea. Spending time alone with this man would be a major bonus. “Y-yeah, I’d like that a lot.” Thomas cringed internally at the stutter and the uncontrollable blush rising in his cheeks.

*~*

Herc beamed as Thomas accepted his offer with a shy, but sure smile. The blush the Irishman tried to force down went unnoticed, as opposed to Thomas’s, whose face turned a crimson shade of red.

_ Man, I’m so whipped. _

“Okay, c’mon.” He said as he helped Thomas off the floor. “Let’s get this party started.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hercules had Thomas sit down on a stool while he finished up measuring the lengths of his arms. In those short minutes, both men found that they enjoyed the other’s company. Jokes were thrown after Thomas shared Herc’s mutual dislike for George King. “I mean- who in their right mind would think that it’s a good idea to wear a thick robe in eighty-degree weather?” Herc laughed. “I know right?!?” At that moment, neither man could recall the last time they’ve laughed so hard. The laughter died down when Thomas got Hercules talking about his favorite thing on the planet: Sewing

  
  


Thomas giggled and watched in amusement as Hercules started to ramble passionately about the importance of having a secure backstitch. He loved how the other man’s eyes lit up when he spoke about one of his interests. Hercules’s monologue was cut off when he finally got all of the measurements finished.

*~*

“There we go. We’re all done!” The tailor exclaimed. “I’m going to start getting the costumes together once I get a couple more people.” Thomas glanced at Hercules before moving to stand up. “Oh- Okay that sounds cool.” Herc couldn’t help but notice how Thomas’s face fell when he said that they were finished.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” Thomas asked. “Uh- Yeah, I guess so.” Hercules stammers.

_ No! You idiot, say something before he leaves. _

The tailor watches as Thomas grabs his jacket and makes his way to the exit. As his hand reached the door, Herc’s mind seemed to reboot. “Wait!” He says, stopping the Virginian from walking out the door.

“Would you- I don’t know- maybe want to grab lunch with me? Later today?” Herc tried not to fidget under Thomas’s gaze.

The taller man looked at Hercules for a second before a grin appeared on his face. “I’d like that.”

*~*

That lunch with Hercules turned into dinner and coffee over the past couple of weeks. Even an impromptu trip to Dave and Buster’s as the tailor claimed it was required. He even tagged along when Hercules hung out with his friends from the cast. Yes, Thomas would tolerate Hamilton for longer than he had to if it meant he got to spend time with the Irishman.

Looking back, Thomas was really glad Hercules was the one that helped him that day. It was now opening night, and with Herc’s constant support, Thomas felt as ready as ever to go out on stage.

And if his costume was stitched the best out of everyone else’s, well nobody needed to know.

*~*

End

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think reader! Comments and kudos are appreciated, but not required. You can request ships and prompts in the comments, or you can ask on my tumblr, which is @0softdawg0 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Next work will come soon. Until next time!
> 
> -Softie


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